|
roadshow 2: 80's pomme
by Steven Kenworthy
the suns heavy sinking waiting impatiently spacing
iÂ’m light years away in a dim place practicing potion,
my next act of french kissing type suits in straight jackets
survival tricks & songly spells learned in top hats and period pieces
i want to bite your apple and make red lips at curtains of
baroque stages crowded with heavy setting& sweating eyes
stares say it all climbing up the tuxedos of mountains
of piles of digital string instruments, challenges and stunts
iÂ’ve set in front of myself. a small delicately carved wooden table.
an illusion that you can taste, touch & feel the pores
the potential royal terror. of the brand new rematch
what is real up against the wall crushing
my body up against the sky of your pink skin. storm,storm.
could you be so scared. a wink to settle your young stomach.
the oohs and ahhs the audience hot canÂ’t stop rocking
painting them across the air the magical sizings of
hows and whys are stacking up like warm broken bricks
a magician
a masonist
a major castle & queen of hearts anxious pounding
a house down of smoke and mirrors worth getting lost in mazes
the patience prizes & redemption at the end of stellar warfare
the tunnel the portinari pot of glam at the end of the show
the conclusion at the end of the sawed-in-half-body with
the fancy & splendid concussion youÂ’ve hallucinated of
the setlist of songs the orchestra wishes it could perform tonight,
limelights worth showcasing for dazzleme whom hips
i know i would want in display of prestidigitation
everyone likes to see everlasting
how good.,
to feel ancient & not to hide
the life has recycled nicely and the tour has begun, again
selling tickets, teleporting here & there.
02/29/2008 Author's Note: four month old daydreams
Posted on 03/01/2008
Copyright © 2024 Steven Kenworthy
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Megan Guimbellot on 03/01/08 at 05:03 AM ahh i loved every minute of this
i like it when you write...it always makes me feel something :)
lovelove |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 03/01/08 at 03:18 PM "french kissing type suits in straight jackets" is a line that arrowed quickly beyond surface thoughts into my subconscious to be played with a while. I can tell. The little white surrender flags have an emblem. I just love it. The whole piece plays peek a boo with the notion (to me)of the greatest trick a magician could play, building (masonist's warm bricks speaking of freshly finished and pharoah's slaves have gathered much straw)anew while sawing in half, what is. "the patience prizes & redemption at the end of stellar warfare" reminds me to always trust without fretting over the small stuff in each day and the evening rest from labors... yeah, this piece deserves many readings. Great job, Worthy. I love how you write. I could go on and on with saying what it said to me but you'd get bored. I love it. |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 03/03/08 at 08:05 AM I love especially "climbing up the tuxedos of mountains" and "i’ve set in front of myself. a small delicately carved wooden table.
an illusion that you can taste," and of course, of course..."my body up against the sky of your pink skin. storm,storm." You are passionate, inventive and breathlessly linguistic.
|
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 03/05/08 at 02:30 AM brilliant, fabulous - vivid |
|
